


Discarded Memories

by ThatOneBiPotato



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: I made this and am not sorry, Platonic DLAMP - Freeform, idk - Freeform, people like it for some reason so i mean, platonic every ship really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2020-08-19 06:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneBiPotato/pseuds/ThatOneBiPotato
Summary: Deceit Sanders is known for lying. It's something he knows, too. Or at least, he did know. He is only more confused when no one believes him that he doesn't know who he is, who they are, or what he's doing.I'm bad at summaries, sorry. Basically, Deceit loses his memory and no one believes him at first, they still don't, but they learn to live with it and be happy with him!At least, until he remembers.





	1. 1

He stared in the mirror, shattered and littering the mostly bare floor. Whatever happened, he had no idea. In fact, he had no idea about anything. He didn’t know his name, or if he even had one. What about his friends, or his family? Did he have any of those? And where the hell was he? Whatever room he was currently in was cold, and aside from the empty vanity desk with chipped black paint and a broken mirror, there wasn’t a single thing in the room, as if someone had cleared it just before he had woken up on the floor, surrounded in glass.

  
He shivered, wrapping the cape that hung loosely over his shoulders tighter around his body. He stared harder into the cracked reflection, his snake pupil dilating as he moved away from and towards his warped reflection. He had scales on one side of his face, which trailed down his neck, and a part of his cheek that was… he didn’t quite know how to describe it. He reached his hand up to try something, and- when had he put gloves on?

  
He pulled a glove off of his hand to find more scales on the back of his hand, sharp, thick nails covered in peeling, dark yellow nail polish that was barely there anymore, and the cold air.

  
He slipped the glove back on immediately, not wanting to look at the sight of his nails which had been bitten, or the scales that hadn’t stopped after his neck, or feel the coldness on his hands. He shivered again, his hand absent-mindedly reaching for the necklace that was hung around his neck. It radiated heat that soothed his freezing body; a glowing blue crystal attached to a silver chain.

  
His gaze shifted from his own face to the door behind him. I looked old, with scratched off black paint and deep claw marks all along the surface. He turned his head away from the broken mirror to look at the door properly. It was worse than the warped version the mirror had provided, and open just slightly.

  
He began to make his way to the broken door, trying his best to avoid making a bigger mess with the broken mirror on the floor and failing, shattering the glass bits under his boots. And how he hated that sound! It wasn’t loud, sure, but he still despised it. Both his hands reached for the warm crystal now, trying to the sounds as he reached the door.

  
He reached to the handle, grateful his gloves dulled the icy temperature. He pulled the door open, only to be hit with a dark mist that was, if possible, colder than the room he was exiting. He curled into himself tighter, desperately reaching for the crystal that had now become his only light and heat source.

  
He walked through the mist, holding up his necklace to navigate himself through the dark. His mind buzzed with more questions, like why was it so cold, and where was everyone else? Surely no one else would stay here! Right?  
~~~~~  
How long he’s been walking, he had no idea. His legs hurt from walking, and he was cold, but at least the mist had thinned and it wasn’t as cold as before. He was fiddling with his necklace, turning it in his hands and watching as the glow pulsed. He hasn’t even noticed how the mist thinned out completely, or how he was no longer shivering. He only noticed after he bumped into a wall.

  
His head snapped up, and he rubbed his forehead, which had hit the surface. His vision blurred heavily, having to go from a changing, soft light to a solid, burning white. He rubbed his eyes to try clearing his temporarily blinded sight.

  
His hand skimmed over the walls, guiding himself as his vision processed his new environment. He was walking down a long hallway with doors of every colour going down as far as he could see. His eyes scanned over the golden plaques above the doors; “Star Room,” “Quest Room,” “Storm Room.” All the doors had different textures and patterns, and he ran his hands over as many as he could while maintaining a steady pace.

  
The only noise that filled the air was his footsteps, his hands tracing the wood, and-

  
“Deceit?!”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Deceit is discovered by a prince.

He flinched at the voice, hard. Until that point, he’d only heard gentle sounds, and now someone was yelling. His hands moved from the doors back to his necklace as he turned to face whoever had caused the loud sound. A man who looked like a kind was making his way towards him. Wait, had he been yelling at him?

“Deceit, where’ve you been?!” Oh, he was. “We tried calling you two days ago. Why have you been ignoring us?”

“Um, okay, so I’m not trying to be rude,” he said softly, surprised at his own voice, “but who are you?”

The “king” just stared. “Very funny, Jekyll and Lie, but I’m not quite in the mood for your jokes.”

His hands tightened around the crystal to the point where he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t shattered. What was he supposed to say? If he wasn’t taken seriously for telling the truth, then what else could he do?  
“No, it’s uh...not a joke,” he explained, not looking into the others eyes. “You do seem to know me though, so I’m not quite sure what that means.” His grip loosened on his necklace, but he still wouldn’t remove his hands; he couldn’t tell why, but he didn’t feel the safest in front of this royal figure, who had yet to stop glaring him down.

“I’ve been told I shouldn’t trust you, but you seem very convincing.”

“But you just said-”

“I know what I said!” he shouted. “I don’t think that’s the problem here, Lying Dory!”(it’s a play on Finding Dory but it’s stupid and I’m not sorry-) At the blank stare he received, he let out a loud, offended gasp. “It makes sense that you wouldn’t get it now, I guess, but I’m still very disappointed in you right now.”

“So, that’s cool and all, but I still don’t know who you are.” His hands finally removed themselves from his necklace, targeting to simply hand down from his sides.

They missed their mark completely when his hands were grabbed, and he was pulled into a sort of waltz position.

“You can call me Roman! Prince Roman, to be more specific!” He twirled them around, not caring of the smaller man in his arms stumbling, not able to catch up to the fast pace. “Come, we must decide what to do with you.”

“We as in me and you, or are- are there more people?” he questioned, nearly falling as he is pulled a little too violently towards a plain white door with no title on it.

“There’s more, of course!” he yelled, pulling open the door harshly and dragging him down the small hallway that was there. “I wouldn’t dream of being alone!” When they reached the second door, Roman didn’t bother opening it. Instead, he very loudly kicked it open. “GUYS HOLY SH*T!”

“Roman!” came a loud voice from the kitchen. “Watch your lan… guage.” The person shouting had come out of the kitchen now, and was staring at him with a sort of disgust in his eyes.

“Hello, Deceit. Nice to see you.”


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they decide what to do with the snake.

He was sat on the couch, being watched from a distance. No one seemed to trust him, but he still didn’t know why. His hands rested on his stomach, keeping a feeling, a sensation, trapped there. It was a warm, tingly feeling, and it felt… comforting. It first started with the one who was in the kitchen- Patton- had remarked how nice it was to see him. It faded quickly. Then, with the one with the tie- Logan- when he said he hadn’t cared about what had to be said about him showing up out of nowhere. He tried holding the feeling there, startled when it worked and releasing it again by accident, feeling it fade, too. Then, the one in black, who’d claimed he was happy to see him. He didn’t catch his name, but he did catch the feeling. The feeling never stayed, though, and when it faded away slowly, he found that replaying the words in his mind would bring it back, but the feeling would be lesser. He repeated all of those words until there was nothing left.

When there was nothing left, his hands returned to his crystal. Through his gloves, he could barely feel the warmth, but he didn’t want to take them off and see his hands again. He laid down sideways, head resting on the arm of the couch and placing the crystal in front of his face. The heat transferred into the air, putting him into a kind of trance. He slowly closed his eyes, a tiredness washing over him. His legs still ached from his long walk earlier, however long that was. His mind flushed out all thoughts and feelings as he drifted into a deep slumber.  
~~~~~  
“Why would you believe him?!” Virgil hissed from the doorway. He was looking out into the living room, keeping an eye on Deceit.

“He was very convincing!” Roman shouted back. “He doesn’t even have his hat! That’s, like, one of his top priorities, and we all know he has his priorities straight!”

“Yeah, they’re the straightest thing about him,” Virgil yelled back, turning away from the doorway. “But that can’t be what tells you if he’s lying or not!”

“But with how he’s tried getting into our heads in the past,” Roman argued, “wouldn’t it make sense that he would’ve played along, or shown some kind of care?”

“Perhaps a new tactic?” Logan suggested. “I, for one, am very curious to find out what his end goal is, regardless of if he’s being truthful or not about his amnesia. Basically, I’m with Roman on this.”  
“Now Logan,” Patton argues softly, “we can’t trust him. He’s just trying to get to us.”

The room fell into silence. They were all split on what to do. Roman entirely, or at least almost entirely, believed Deceit’s story. Logan was willing to run the experiment of keeping him. Patton, of course, didn’t want him to stay, and neither did Virgil. Though while Roman and Logan gave reasons, Patton’s reasons were biased and Virgil never gave one. And they all knew that. But everyone’s opinions mattered. That’s what they all said, anyways.

“Fine, then let’s make a deal,” Roman said, breaking the silence. “We keep him, but if he slips up once, we send him back to wherever he was before I found him.”

“That seems like a satisfactory arrangement.”

“Mmm… fine. Virge?”

Everyone’s eyes turned expectantly to the darker trait, who felt a knot forming in his stomach. They’d all made up their minds, and while it was currently a 3 v 1, they wouldn’t do anything without everyone’s approval, and especially his. He wanted to say no, but they all agreed to give him a chance, and if he really had nothing to remember, they could possibly start over. Do it right this time.

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

There was relieved silence, followed by a soft tension. Their opinions were still split, but at least they’d come to an agreement.

“So, anyone want to help me with dinner?” Patton askewd, already on his way to the day, followed closely by Roman.

“So,” Virgil said quietly, “I guess we’re keeping a snake now”

“It would appear so.” Logan breathed deeply, before giving a small stretch. “We should settle him in now, correct?”

Virgil nodded, the knot still twisted in his stomach. Was this actually happening? Was this even real? And why now? Of all times, now. Not that anything was going on. No matter what time Deceit appeared, he would never feel it was the right time, at least not yet. Probably never. Until now.

“Virgil, are you coming?” The emo’s head snapped up. He’d zoned out again. It couldn’t have been for long, or his attention would have been grabbed sooner.  
“Ah- right, sorry, I just-”

“If it’s about Deceit,” Logan interrupted, “you don’t need to worry about talking to him, he fell asleep on the couch.”

Virgil felt the knot begin to untangle. He wouldn’t have to talk! At least, not yet. He hoped not ever, but knew that wasn’t possible.

“Come,” Logan said, extending his hand towards Virgil. “A movie might help you settle your nerves. It’s helped in the past, anyway.”

Virgil took Logan’s hand, letting him be led into the living room and to the couch. Deceit was curled into a tight ball at the arm of the couch. It looked like he had tried to use his little cape as a makeshift blanket. He looked… peaceful. But there were too many memories to know that the peaceful look could change all too fast. The thing that bothered him the most, though, was the glass.

He had glass in the bottom of his boots, which had now been littered on the floor and couch. The only glass Logan seemed to notice was on the couch, which he simply ignored.

Virgil sat himself down on the opposite side, curling into the couch to stay away from the sleeping figure, but refusing to take his eyes off of him. Even as Logan scrolled through movies, looking for one that would suit Virgil, he found his gaze tracing the others features. His scales, which were all different sizes and trailed down his neck; that weird smile line he could never describe; the one side of his nose that had a more snake-like nostril; his hair, was a complete, curly mess and missing it’s hat; the scar under his jaw that was near impossible to see unless you knew where it was or were close enough; the freckles that ran along the parts of his skin that were human, which he couldn’t even see, but just knew they were there, just like how he knew how many scaled were on his body, down to the smallest one, or how easily he could fall asleep when he was warm, or when he was due to shed, or how it was probably really weird that he knew all of this.

“Virgil,” came Logan’s voice, snapping him out of his dazed state. “I know it’s not your favorite, but would Lion King work for you?”

“Yeah, Logan. That’d be fine.” Virgil began to relax as the movie started, forgetting almost entirely as Logan sat down, blocking his view from the sleeping snake.

Virgil rested his head in his arms, which rested on the arm of the couch he sat by. He stared at the TV screen until the only thing that mattered to him was Mufasa’s death.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we enter Logan's room

Logan sat on his bed, staring at his ceiling, counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that covered the pale surface, recalling the events that had taken place earlier.

It started out normal; he woke early, leaving him with, at most, two hours of sleep, again. He made a pot of coffee, downing the first three cups immediately, despite the burning sensation, and drinking two more before Patton came in and began making breakfast. Roman came in, loud as usual, waking up Virgil in the process.

Then, Thomas woke up. Logan appeared before him, startling him the same as every morning, and went through the plans for the day; what could be left out if desired, what was too important to forget, and the times that he could do as he pleased. He then stayed in his room, working for hours and skipping lunch, before being dragged out by Patton for board games. Patton himself would be too busy with making dinner, but he still wanted Logan to take a break and join the other two. Board games lasted around 20 minutes before Roman went to retrieve someone he claimed had entered the hallway, returning with a frightened Deceit being dragged behind him.

They ate dinner while Deceit slept, and all sat to watch movies together. With how much Roman and Virgil were fighting, and how loud they would get at times, it surprised them all that Deceit never even twitched.

Logan had now been sitting in his room for about five hours, questioning and wondering and theorizing while the others slept. Did Deceit actually lose his more recent memories? Or was it just another plan? Obviously, he didn’t lose them all, if he really had. He could still speak, and he understood the more basic words; he clearly was at least above a toddler level of learning. But it could be a disguise. Not like that would make much sense. He seemed unusually nervous; he fiddled with everything he could get his hands on- sleeves, gloves, that necklace- anything! And with the tension that was held between them all, it wouldn’t have explained why he fell asleep so deeply; unless he couldn’t remember the tension, that is.

He thought on it, and thought again. He kept thinking about it, trying to look for all the possible explanations. There wasn’t much, at least none that hadn’t already been presented. It didn’t help that the last time Logan had properly slept was about a week ago.

Logan pulled up his arm to look at his watch.  
12:37  
Not as late as he had expected. He sighed, slipping his feet into his slippers when he noticed a light. That wouldn’t have been so strange if it weren’t for the fact that everyone should be asleep. Perhaps Deceit. He had slept for quite some time, after all. Logan grunted as he pushed himself over to the door. When he opened it, he cringed, the brightness contrasting greatly to his normally dark room. He shuffled into the hallway, shutting his door gently behind him and moving into the living room.

Indeed, there was Deceit, looking at the walls of the living room that were covered in framed pictures of Logan’s “family”. He ran his hands over the glass protecting the actual photo, taking one off the wall gently and admiring it.

Logan watched him for a few more seconds before clearing his throat. Deceit squeaked, almost dropping the frame, only catching it by the edge of the frame. He pulled the picture into his chest and turned the face the other.

“Oh! Uh- Logan was it? I- I didn’t see you there.” Deceit loosened his hold on the frame, letting his expression turn somewhat sour.

“Is something on your mind, Deceit?”

“Yeah, two things actually.” He slowly put the photo back onto the hook before walking over to stand in front of Logan, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. “So, you guys keep calling me Deceit. I’m guessing that’s supposed to be my name, but that doesn’t seem like… you know, it’s not the best name, exactly?”

Logan scratched his chin, staring at the smaller side. “Yes, I suppose it isn’t. When the others wake up, we can give you a proper name.”

“Ok,” Deceit chirped, messing with his gloves this time as he looked Logan directly into his eyes. “Why are you sad?”

Logan stared back with wide eyes. He didn’t exactly know what to say. Why would he ask that? Was… was he sad? What gave it away?

He felt his throat go dry and tight. “What makes you- uh, say that, Deceit?” The snake side frowned.

“In all those pictures,” he said, pointing at the wall, “everyone is smiling- everyone but you. Why not? People don’t smile when they’re not happy, I’m pretty sure. So why aren’t you happy?”

Logan just kept staring. He felt his heart rate quicken, and his stomach turn into a knot. He began to feel hot; trapped. Why? Why did he feel like this? Why that question? Why wasn’t he happy? Was.. was he not happy? He wasn’t sure.

“Oh, uh- you don’t actually have to answer that!” Deceit shouted, probably louder than he had intended too.

Logan sighed, still tense. Of course he didn’t have to. It’s not like Deceit would understand anyway. It was possible, but unlikely.

“Deceit, would you like to come into my room?” Deceit stared blankly. “It would let you go somewhere that isn’t just… here. Would you like to?”

He nodded simply, smiling wide.

“Also, I still want a better name!” he said. “I think you could give me one by yourself, thank you.”

“We can discuss it in my room.” Logan grabbed the other’s hand, leading him into the hallway and turning off the light. Without the light, it went dark; very dark. Deceit held on to Logan tighter, his free hand moving to the crystal around his neck that provided the only bit of dull light to be seen. The soft light illuminated his features, which showed something very easily described as fear.

The door to the logical side’s room opened, and Logan moved to the light switch. The lamp turned on, shining a dull, dark blue into the room that had previously been lit from a desk lamp, and he could hear a soft gasp from the other. And, honestly, it made some sense.

His room was big. Majority of his walls were covered in shelves. More than half of those shelves were covered in books, the rest with film documentary DVD’s. A globe floated near the ceiling in the center; half of the world was shadowy, and the other was just normal. Plastic stars covered his ceiling almost entirely, forming constellations and a few little quotes he had chosen to place there. There was a curved TV connected to one of his walls, a black bean bag sat in front of it. There was a desk pushed into a corner, covered in stacks of papers, books, and pens, pencils, and highlighters scattered across the open surface, a black, worn office chair pulled out of it. There was a desk lamp on the floor by the desk, pushed off for more room. There was a small, stiff bed with loose, messy sheets pushed in the opposite corner. And finally, the carpet; it was purple, and fluffy in some places, matted down in others from repeated walking.

“This is your room?” Deceit asked, a wonder in his voice.

“Yes, it is. It’s not the greatest, I know, but-”

“I love it!” Deceit yelled. He was practically bouncing where he stood, his eyes filled with stars, both from the reflection of the ceiling and amazement.

He immediately went for the shelves, scanning the books. He pulled one off the shelf, only for it to be taken away.

“Uh- maybe you should try adjusting first before taking everything, ok?”

Deceit nodded, still eyeing the shelves.

“How about a documentary instead?” Logan switched the book Deceit had grabbed- a book about snakes, interestingly enough- with a film about the ocean. He popper it into the CD player, hearing the bean bag squish behind him.

“Wow, this is really comfortable! Well, I guess you already know that, huh?” Deceit chuckled softly, “I mean, this is your room after all.”

Logan couldn’t contain the laugh that left his lips. Whether Deceit was lying about what happened to him or not, he liked how he was now, and knew he would likely have to change, but wished he wouldn’t. He pressed play, the smile still on his face, turning around to head back to his desk to see Deceit staring at him with a wide-open mouth, causing his smile to drop.

“May I help you?”

“You’re smile is pretty”- wait… what? - “and you’re laugh is beautiful. You should do it more often.”

“I… I can’t.” Logan said, looking away from the staring match they were having. “Like you said, I… I’m not happy.”

Deceit frowned, curling in on himself. His own gaze went to the screen, as the document had started. Logan walked silently by, scooted into his desk on his chair, pulled out a blank paper, and clicked a pen, preparing to write the schedule for Thomas.

Maybe he really wasn’t happy…


	5. A Slightly Gay Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dee learns how to cook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna start naming the chapters now, and also writing chapter summaries :)
> 
> This wasn't as gay as I had hoped and I had intended to make it longer, but the original plan is now in two parts... So.... Yeet-

By the time Logan had finished his work, it was 5 am. He yawned, getting up from his chair and stretching. He accepted that he hadn’t gotten any sleep, and hoped he could finish his work, or at least spread out his schedule enough that he could at least take a small nap, 5 minutes at least. He grabbed the paper that sat atop a pile of papers that had been scribbled on, with words scratched out.

Names. That’s what they were. Deceit had wanted him to give him a name, and he wanted to do it right. He wrote in pen, but his lack of sleep had made him mess up too much, and he had wanted his list to be perfect. Once he had all the names he wanted listed, he made a fresh paper without cross marks or misspellings, and though the handwriting didn’t turn out as neat as he had hoped, he no longer cared. He was just glad he had finally done it, after hours of analyzing certain name meanings that would suit the snake side, and making a few of his own, which he hadn’t been too proud of but wrote down anyways.

Logan’s vision was blurry, and he could feel his heartbeat; lack of sleep wasn’t healthy, after all, especially so much. He walked- more stumbled- over to where Deceit lay on the beanbag, breathing evenly. He had fallen asleep yet again. Logan readjusted his glasses before gently shaking Deceit awake. Deceit shifted slowly, placing his hand on top of Logan’s before looking up at him with glassy eyes. They waited in silence until Deceit became focused again, sitting up stretching before looking into the other’s eyes again.

“You’re eyes are pretty,” said Deceit, quietly watching the pretty eyes widen in surprise He didn’t know why he said that. It was stupid to think that Logan didn’t already know his eyes were pretty.

Logan’s mouth fell open to say something, but he couldn’t. His throat was dry and tight, and his heart was louder in his ears now. He felt warm, and his stomach felt… weird. He rubbed his eyes again.

‘Damn lack of sleep,’ he thought, breathing deeply and gripping the paper tighter. “I made a list of names for you,” he finally said, voice hushed. He held out the paper, resisting a little as Deceit took to messy page, but letting it slip through his fingers in the end.

Though there wasn’t much to go off of, it was surprising how quickly his finger landed on a name; and Logan wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe it.

It was a name that he had made up on the spot, nothing backing it up, no meaning, one he himself had thought of.  
Devon. 

A cliche name, starting with the first two letters of the name he had gone by for years. It had no meaning that he knew of, and it had been one he had hastily written down, trying to get at least a few more names. He only knew of the name because he had heard it before, and he had somehow managed to misspell it twice. And it was the one he wanted.

“A-are you sure you want that one?” Logan asked. “I mean, there’s better names, ones that relate to something, ones with meanings, you don’t have to pick-”

“No!” Deceit- Devon- interrupts. “I want this one! It’s simpler than the others, and I like it.”

Logan sighed. Of course, only wanting the simple things. It wasn’t like that was a bad thing, though. He just didn’t understand why he had spent so much time remembering and looking through his books to find suitable names he thought would be chosen. Simple is always better. He wasn’t simple.

“Come on Dec- uh, Devon, we should go out and wait for the others. I’m pretty sure they’d like to do something, and it would be good for you to join them, in whatever they choose to do today.”

Deceit- Devon- had run out of the room by the time his sentence was finished, waiting just outside the door and bouncing where he stood, causing Logan to sigh. Yet another child he would have to deal with. As if three weren’t enough. He just hoped this one would be like Virgil: not much of a problem.

He turned the T.V. off, organizing the piles of DVD’s Devon had gone through and stacked beside his seat. He walked out of his room, looking around, but finding the tall child that was just there gone. So, he wasn’t like Virgil. That was going to be a problem. He now hoped he wouldn’t be worse than either of the other two.

“Devon,” Logan called out, trying to not be to wake the others by yelling. “Devon, come here. I don’t trust you to not be loud.” He sighed yet again, walking himself to the kitchen. He spotted Devon curled on the couch again, not asleep this time, though, but staring at him.

“So,” he asked, louder than Logan would’ve hoped, “the others are asleep then? What do you normally do while you wait for them?”

“Well,” he said, grabbing the coffee grounds, “normally no one else is awake, so I would sit here by myself. But, since you’re here with me this time, what would you like to do, Devon?”

Devon draped himself over the couch, staring into space and thinking. “Hm, I dunno. I don’t really know what there is to do, but you do!”

Logan sat and thought. A movie maybe? A video game? Perhaps a board game would interest him. But with seemingly no memory, how could either of them tell? And this upset Logan. He didn’t like not knowing things, even if he couldn’t control what he did and didn’t know. But that didn’t stop him from hating- no, that’s the wrong word- very strongly disliking that he didn’t have knowledge that wasn’t exactly that hard to find out. So far, Devon had willingly done everything offered to him and everything he found he could do, and, for the most part, enjoyed it all. So, he would just have to run an experiment, and see if there was anything he didn’t enjoy.  
“How about chess?”  
~~~~~  
Patton yawned, stretching on the couch. They all had rooms of their own, and rooms for their functions. Patton preferred to stay in his “Nostalgia” room, as it was deemed by Roman. It was nicer there. He was surrounded by good feelings. And he loved it! I mean, how could he not? All the good feelings were there, and good feelings were… good! Great, even!

He felt sadder whenever he left, and it had been getting worse. So he had been staying longer than he would ever admit in that room. But since Deceit was there now, he would have to leave, to make sure his famILY was safe. Sure, Roman could protect them, but what if he couldn’t? Virgil would set off an alarm if something bad happened, but what if he ended up unable to? And Logan would likely never leave his room.

So, instead, he yawned as he got up, wrapped his onesie around his neck, and left the Good Room.

Patton walked down the mostly empty hallway, surprised to hear voices when it was normally silent in the morning.

“No no, you can’t do that.” Logan.

“Oh, I can’t?” And… Deceit.

“No, no you can’t,” Logan said, sighing. “The knight can only move like this. The bishop can move like tha- oh, hello there Patton.”

He smiled warmly at the other, watching them. “What’cha guys doing?” he asked, using a cheery tone.

“Logan’s teaching me how to play!” Deceit replied happily. “I’m pretty bad at it. But- but I’m getting there!”

“You’ll get it eventually, Devon, don’t worry."

“Devon..?” Patton questioned, not realizing he had said it out loud.

“Deceit’s new name,” Logan replied quietly, focusing on his turn. “He didn’t like being called Deceit and asked me to give him a new one, so I did. Checkmate-” there was a groan of disappointment- “and, since Patton is here now, why don’t you help him make breakfast? Assuming that’s fine with both parties.”

“Yeah, sure,” Patton said, neither of the others seeming to pick up his reluctance. He didn’t trust ‘Devon’. He had hurt his famILY and he didn’t like that. But, if he couldn’t remember anything, perhaps he could… improve.

Devon followed Patton to the kitchen with no hesitation, bouncing on his toes the whole way.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to help me cook!” Patton exclaimed, earning a bright smile and a giggle from the other. “I’m guessing you ‘don’t know how to cook’, so let’s just make pancakes, since it’s one of the easiest things I know how to make!”

He opened the cupboards, pulling out two pans, a bowl, a measuring cup, a whisk, and a spoon, flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. He measured out the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar, before putting it all into the bowl. He opened the fridge, pulling out the milk, eggs, and butter. He cut the butter and put it into a smaller bowl, before the bowl went into the microwave. He poured the milk, cracked the eggs, and handed Devon the whisk,

“I’m going to pour in the butter, and then you’re going to stir it, m’kay?”

Devon nodded, taking the whisk, and wondering if he should take off his gloves as he was handed the bowl that now contained butter.

“Uh- when do I stop?”

“I’ll tell you when,” Patton said, taking out more eggs and another bowl. He oiled up one of the pans, took the pepper out of the cupboards and placed it next to the salt, and cracked a few eggs. As he stood at the counter stirring the eggs, he watched the snake man awkwardly stir the batter in the silence. At least he was doing it right.

Slowly pouring the eggs into the pan, he pulled a spatula from the drawer and sighed contently. He had someone to help him cook now, even if they weren’t the closest. But someone to help is someone to help.

“Unacceptable!” came Roman’s voice, making both sides in the kitchen, as well as Logan, jump. “How has it only now occurred to me that you don’t have another outfit? Come!”

“Wait, but-,” Devon had luckily put down the bowl, just before he was being yanked away. “Oh, ok- I’ll be back, maybe!” he called behind him, stumbling slightly as he was being dragged away.

This day was either going to be fun, or a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I don't update for two months-  
Maybe less this time, idk, we'll see


	6. The one where Logan gets sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Implied animal death, implied mention, lack of sleep, angsty ending in fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had another chapter before this, but that version got kinda corrupted? Good, it was bad writing. Besides, I don't remember it having anything important? It was a breakfast scene I guess? OH WAIT NO ok so Dee's outfit! Mom shorts(I think that's what they're called?), mint green Converse, knee-high rainbow socks(I think, I don't remember, lol), and a long sleeved yellow sweater. Oh aND LOGIE FINALLY GETS SLEEP, WOOOOOO

HEY! YOU! READ THE NOTE AT THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T, IT'S IMPORTANT!!!!!

Thank you uwu  
~~~~~  
Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was working, yet again. He was finding it harder and harder to filter through intrusive thoughts, because since Deceit could no longer do his job properly, he had to also filter through memories and ideas, as well as plan ahead of time for simple lies that could possibly be needed. And, since Thomas was currently out, make a few up on the spot. He let his head fall onto his desk, letting out a loud groan before picking it up again and continuing.

He was exhausted, and extra work helped nothing. He rubbed his eyes again, trying his best to hide the dark circles under his eyes. He has just been able to do it earlier, before he came into his room, just enough to look fine. He was so tired he couldn’t even change his appearance, one of the easiest things any of them could do.  
He yawned for the fifth time in two minutes, glancing over at his bed. It was so tempting, but he had work to do. Yet, knowing they would eventually drag him out and see his lack of sleep clear as anything, well, it was at least enough for him to move away from his desk and settle into his bean bag chair with a nice book.  
He got maybe halfway through the first chapter before his eyelids backstabbed him, closing all too fast for his taste. He slept, with a book and his hand resting on his chest, skewed glasses, and soft snoring. He twitched every now and then before he forced himself up again, ashamed he had fallen asleep.

Sure, it had only been ten minutes, but that was ten minutes of work lost to time. Cursing himself quietly, Logan attempted to stand again, giving up when he both felt and heard how his back cracked.

He pushed his glasses back up his nose and allowed himself to sink into the depth of the soft bean bag. He was still exhausted, but didn’t want to go back to sleep. He also couldn’t shake the hunger. He hadn’t eaten much breakfast, and lunch had already passed. Another day wasted in his room by work. He was curious, he wanted to do things, test things, but he just couldn’t.

He was relieved when he finally heard that knock on his door. He shakily stood, gathering the energy to have a normal appearance as he opened the door.  
“Hello, Virgil, how may I assist you?” he asked, forcing down another yawn. 

“Just wanted to ask if you would be joining us for that movie marathon,” Virgil said casually, looking Logan up and down, as if he knew. “We’re gonna be doing that in, like, an hour, after dinner.”

Logan nodded his head. “I would probably be forcibly removed sometime after you four started anyways, so of course.”

He let the illusion drop the second Virgil walked off, letting out a sigh of relief. An hour. He would have enough time to take a nap, resume work, and then join them. He pulled his papers and computer onto his bed, laying on his stomach and continuing, not forcing himself up. If he was having any sleep, he would do it while working.

He filed through the documents, pushing the ones that were newly forming off to the side, and typed away. He was drawing multiple blanks on information as he continued. He felt his head drift into the itchy sheets, letting himself collapse on his bed and drift into slumber. A few more minutes passed before his body registered he wouldn’t immediately wake up again, and began to form dreams.

Now, dear reader, I am going to break the fourth wall to explain some things. While I should be reading now, I prefer to write, so I will have to make this explanation short and simple. Logan has a fun thing about his dreams. He will go to a safe spot that he’s created. Sort of like BBC’s Sherlock, how Sherlock has a mind palace. He will… appear in a sort of lightbulb dome thing. Whenever he wants to leave, a small opening with appear in the glass, and he can crawl out into an endless world where all his pent up emotions and thoughts can be released. Would canon Logan do this? Probably not. But I mean, idk. This is my story I can do what I want in here, thank you very much. Ok fourth wall break over~ :)

Logan laid down at the bottom of his dome. His spot. His safe place. He watched as his thoughts formed into ideas on the outside, and if he disliked them they morphed into his preference.

The garden left, replaced with a library. The books in the library disappeared, turning into plants and small, strange, caged creatures. The lights changed colour many times before settling on a simple white glow. The table morphed, turning into the silliest designs that were not at all practical. Cups of coffee arranged themselves neatly on the table, before they changed into a hot chocolate, with whipped cream and marshmallows, even with a pumpkin spice powder, which turned into chocolate powder at the sour glance Logan gave it. No, he did not like pumpkin spice and hot chocolate together. He sighed, sitting down on the wooden chair that changed under his rear end into a soft shark chair. He prefered that. It was squishy and comfortable, like his bean bag, shaped like a typical chair, and with a shark design printed onto it. How could he not?

One of the small critters open the cage and leaped from the shelf onto the table beside him. It had the basic shape of a small monkey, but it’s fur was black, it’s eyes were shining gold, and it had four arms instead of two. It pushed one of the mugs towards Logan, who drank from it, ignoring how the steam clouded his glasses. The monkey let out a chirp, leaping onto the shelves again to release a small bird. The bird looked dull and grey from the outside, with some browns mixed in, black eyes, and a long, pointed beak. But it waddled out, and spread it wings, revealing an array of reds and oranges and pinks and blues.

It flew towards the top of the library, with the monkey giving loud shrieks and cheers for the bird as Logan simply glanced up, unbothered and unfazed by its beauty. This was his favorite place to think of. The bird and monkey held a special place in his heart. The other creatures did, too, but the two were his personal favorites. He set the mug down, wiped his lip, and stood up as the monkey clung onto his arm and the bird landed on his shoulder. He began to walk towards a separate door, one off to the side of the library, hidden by the shelves. The other animals started to shriek, a loud cry to be let out. But no, not today. He reached for the handle of the door as the cries grew pained. The second he walked out of that door, they would all die. All the plants and animals, they would turn into nothing but dust. Yet, when he would eventually return, they would be alive again. That’s what happened to them all, even the two he was currently carrying, they would all meet that fate anyways, when he would have to leave. He wished he could bring them with him, but for obvious reasons, such as them not being real and also because of how many there were, he couldn’t. He didn’t like it, not at all, but it’s just what happened.

The door opened and the cries dimmed away as he walked through and into another garden, not like the one that had turned into the library. No, this one was more special. There were small trees growing everywhere, with silver leaves and ruby trunks. Small flowers blossomed upon his arrival, revealing lightning bugs that glowed like fairy lights of all different colours. A breeze drifted by, swaying the teal grass that, from experience, tasted like sour candy. Bushes of small, indigo berries grew beside the trees, lining a path made of mixed gems that let to a gigantic tree. It was a baobab tree, thick and tall. It’s trunk was ivory and it’s leaves were a bright emerald green colour, and even though there was a large room carched through the center, it still lived on beautifully.

Logan followed to path to the side of the large tree. When he made it to a certain point, he stepped off the path and into the shrubbery, crouching into a carved hole near the bottom of the trunk. Inside were floating lanterns, and carved shelves lined with books and framed pictures and half eaten snacks. There was an opening at the top, where then canopy let filtered sunlight fall onto a pillow. He settled himself in the pillow, letting the monkey and the bird roam the place they had made together, many, many years ago.

Though he could never think of absolutely any of these things on his own, he was glad Roman could have. They had all made ideas together to make a room filled with a grand world. It was back when they were still King, when Logan wasn’t yet Logic, when Morality was nothing but Kindness. He made this space, and the separate variations, out of old ideas they had scrapped. Anything that wasn’t a kingdom was scrapped. Peaceful creatures, scrapped. Flavours, foods, animals, stories, all scrapped, all kept by Logan. He would never admit it, but those were his favourite times. When he didn’t feel the need to be serious, when dark and light sides were teams they made for games and nothing more, holding no meaning, when there weren’t any fights. It was so much simpler then. He missed it.

He heard a knock. It was loud, echoey, meaning it came from the real world. His time to dwell on the past was up. He shouldn’t have even done it in the first place. It was stupid of him to think he even wanted it. No, no he didn’t. He clearly didn’t.

When his eyes opened in the real world, they were wet. Why had he been crying? There was nothing to be sad about. Besides, he doesn’t get sad. He doesn’t feel.  
He pushed himself upright, wiping his eyes and fixing his glasses. He held up an illusion to hide the bags that still remained under his eyes. He adjusted his tie and pulled down his wrinkled shirts, opening the door.

“Ah, Virgil, is it time already?” he asked, sounding completely unamused.

“Yep.” Virgil gave a small smile to him before his expression changed. “Actually, the time passed. We’re still watching movies, of course, but I… did come in earlier. You were asleep and I didn’t want to bother you, but you looked really tired. Are you ok?” Virgil’s voice was drenched in concern, his eyes filled with a deep worry, so deep, in fact, the ocean would be jealous.

“Of course,” Logan said, trying to stay calm. “Why wouldn’t I be? Not getting enough sleep would be illogical, and it is important. That is, if that’s what you were meaning.”

Virgil stared at him blankly, with an unreadable expression. He said nothing as he turned and started walking to the living room, Logan following close behind him.

Currently, they were halfway through Fantasia. Devon was curled up and the end of the couch, hugging a small pillow and staring intently at the T.V. Roman was beside him, sitting with his legs crossed, his head resting in one of his hands, also staring intently at the screen. Patton was at the other end of the couch, in his cat onesie and sitting with his legs up to his chest. Upon seeing Virgil, he smiled brightly, making grabby hands at him.

Virgil smirked, walking behind the couch to meet Patton, settling between the others legs as he clung on tightly. Logan walked over, nudging Devon to move over a little. He looked up at Logan before he sat up, sitting upright and still hugging the pillow. When Logam sat down, Devon laid across his lap contently.

He sighed, upset he couldn’t sneak back into his room if Devon didn’t move(which was likely). He started absentmindedly running his hands through the other’s curly hair. It was soft, and had no knots. It felt nice, and his scalp was warm. Devon started backing into Logan, enjoying the feeling. He softly let out some noises that sounded close to a purr. Logan knew he would likely regret this, but he didn’t stop.

The others looked over occasionally, but made no comments. By the time Cinderella was over, Logan had a sleeping snake in his lap. He felt tired himself, cursing himself mentally. Devon was warm, much like a blanket, and his breathing was rhythmic and very calming. There was pain in his legs, sharp and burning. But before he could react to the feeling of it searing into his thigh, his eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, he was back in his bubble again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just... slowly turning into Loceit, lmao


	7. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say 'goodbye' to everyone...

Roman woke in his room, a little dazed. How did he get there? The last thing he remembered was the others asleep around him as Lilo and Stitch played on. Normally, they would all be left on the couch. It was very rare anyone ever got moved into their rooms after movie nights, and it was never him that got moved. This was a nice surprise, at least. He yawned, stretching out across his large bed weakly. Oh, how he wanted to sink back into the sheets. It was so warm.

He let his legs fall over the edge of the bed, and he got onto his feet shakily. He was still in outfit from the previous night: a white, long sleeve shirt and blue jeans. He rubbed some of the sleep out of his eyes and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a red hoodie with a golden, glittery crown printed on the front, and slipped it over his head. He gave a long, low sigh, sliding back onto his bed. He didn’t want to get up. He wished he could let himself be pulled into his dreams again. He could go to the imagination, at least. That was always similar to a dream. It was sometimes very painful, but a dream nonetheless. And he could mostly shape it however he wanted. Mostly.

He rubbed the back of his neck slowly. He gave another sigh before he got back onto his feet and walked over to the door. His hand rested on the handle for a few seconds before it slowly turned the knob and exited his room.

There was no smell of breakfast. There wasn’t even the sound of talking. Roman looked around questioningly before making his way down the hall. The only sound was his footsteps, which now sounded heavier than they actually were.

He made it to the living room, but all he did was stand there in confusion. The cough was empty, aside from Devon, who remained asleep. There were DVD cases knocked over onto the floor(not messily, but not how they were normally). The TV was turned off, but the remote, which was normally on the coffee table, wasn’t there either. The kitchen was empty, and all of yesterday’s dirty dishes remained in the sink. The clock on the wall ticked away, showing that it already 7 am.

That’s… odd, Roman thought. And it was, indeed, very odd.

Then, there was movement on the couch, and a soft whine. Roman looked over at Dee, slightly worried. The lying side looked so… vulnerable. He looked a lot thinner without the layers of clothes he wore normally. And he was just… there, sleeping so comfortably and with so much trust. As if their past quarrels and disagreements meant nothing. They probably didn’t, not now anyways. But he was just so… open. Like he had no need to hide and protect himself. No need to shield himself from a small society who would never accept a snake faced liar into the group.

Devon whined again, and started squirming around. Something was distressing him. There was a sort of panic written across his sleeping face. Panic, mixed with anger and sadness. Roman slowly walked around the couch, crouching in front of him, and wondering if he should wake the snake. His face slowly began to rest before he flipped back around and made another cry.

Roman softly placed his hand on the other’s shoulder, and nudged him very gently. When he remained asleep, he pushed down more, but only slightly, as Logan had once told him that doing so could cause too much panic.

Devon jolted at the pressure, and quickly sat up. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide. His breathing was quiet, but heavy, and he looked very distraught. His hair a big mess of curls now that he was up, and they were sticking loosely to his forehead, held there by small beads of sweat.

“Hey, hey,” Roman said softly, replacing his hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong? What happened?”

Devon gave him a glance before looking away almost immediately.

“I… I had a bad dream, is all. I’m f-fine…” He seemed more relaxed now, but still worried about something.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it about?”

“I…” His eyes seemed to grow frantic again. “There was yelling, and- and- and there was- there was a lot of people, I think, but it was dark. Dark and- and really fuzzy, I-… I don’t remember anything else about it. I’m sorry”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s ok,” Roman said tenderly, now gingerly rubbing circles into his back. He’d done this many times with Virgil, when the others couldn’t be there. Virgil’s nightmares were always worse when he was around, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible everytime. At least Devon’s wasn’t as bad.

“Dee, do you know where the other are?” he asked, still rubbing circles, but slowly transitioning into pulling his hand away. “They were all here last night, do you know where they went?”

He looked at Roman for a while with empty eyes before whispering, “yeah, I do.”

Roman stared back, confused. It was unnatural how quickly the mood had changed. There was now something even more off. It was extremely unsettling, but… he wanted his famILY back, now. Even if it meant being upset.

“Where are they now?” he asked uneasily.

“Patton’s in the room. The room with the memories. He went into there to lose himself.”

“What about Logan?”

“He’s at the library.”

“Virgil?”

Devon went silent.

“Dee, where’s Virgil?” More silence. “Devon. Where is Virgil?”

“He’s in the dark place.”

Roman’s brow furrowed, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“What dark place..?” he finally asked with a shaky voice.

“The place I came from.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...for now


	8. Quick A/N

I've been meaning to add this part for a while, but never really got around to it. This story is on hiatus due to mental health reasons, more specifically now. My depressive episodes have been especially bad and more frequent as of recently, but I'll give myself a pass on that because of what's happening with the world currently. I've still been working on it, but the chapter isn't yet done, sadly, because I don't quite like it, and I'll keep working on it until I can get myself to post it, but until then, don't hope for much. This goes for my other story too, though one will take much longer because it's been more detailed and complex than the other, and I try to keep it that way, no matter how long it takes. Sorry.


	9. Aching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !Virgil-centric chapter!
> 
> Something's not right here.
> 
> !!WARNING!! There is mention of blood, injuries, anxiety/panic attacks, numbness, and kinda gay. There's also some swearing. Ok carry on-(let me know if I should put anymore warnings)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> skjdsk update

His head hurt. It was fuzzy, and there was a loud buzzing noise somewhere, but he didn’t know where. At least he was laying somewhere soft. He rolled over and onto his side, opening his eyes. Everything was blurry, very, very blurry, but he could tell that it was dark.

He let out a groan, closing his eyes again. Why did his head hurt so much? He gently placed his fingers onto the part that hurt the most, and hissed in pain. It felt like cloth, and was wet…

Wait, what?

Virgil quickly sat up, forcing his eyes to focus on the environment around him. He felt the area again, and flinched. The area was bandaged pretty heavily, but it still hurt like hell. He brought his hand down to look at it, and saw red. He felt panic quickly building up in his core. He got up off the couch that he was on, and stumbled around before almost immediately falling back onto it.

The buzzing hadn’t yet stopped, and he felt a headache coming, as well as maybe a panic attack. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know why he was bleeding, he didn’t know who’d bandaged him, and he couldn’t hear anything.

Yeah, it was a panic attack.

He let himself fall back onto the couch, screwing his eyes shut and trying to disappear from the world. He could feel his breathing picking up pace, and could faintly hear his name being called somewhere. He opened his eyes slightly, which were blurred with dark patches and tears. He felt cold, and was scared, and couldn’t stop shaking.

“... Virgil, please… Virgil, listen… Virgil…”

He could only hear bits and pieces, but it was enough to get him to start listening.

“Virgil, 5 4 3 2 1, ok? Can you do that for me? Do you need more time?”

He felt dizzy, and like he was possibly dying, but he made himself sit up to pay attention.

“Five things you can see. What are five things that you can see?”

He curled deeper into himself, and looked around. It was still blurry, but he could make out a few things, at least.

“Couch, coun-counter, some, uh… some books, a bookshelf… green.”

“Four things you can feel.”

“Couch, pain, cold, the- the, uh… the air.” It wasn’t much, but it was working, at the very least.

“Three things you can hear?”

“You, me, heartbeat.” His breathing was becoming more steady, and he didn’t feel that cold anymore. It was still very much cold, but not as bad as he had just felt.

“M’kay, good, good, two things you can smell?”

He closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to focus, before chuckling and saying, “Not too much, it kinda stinks in here.” This made the other chuckle too.

“Good, and one thing you can taste?”

“Nothin’.”

“Excellent. Good job, Virgin, you just lasted through a panic attack. Now how’s your head?”

“It’s fine, could be better. Thanks, Rem.”

…

Wait, what?

Virgil snapped his eyes back open, but refused to actually move. In front of his face, only a couple inches away, was Remus, and is big dumb ol’ face. He wore a soft smile, which was unusual, and he looked pleased to be looking Virgil in the eyes. Weird.

“Hey, uh, Rem? Why-... Why am I here?”

“Why are you asking me?” Remus let out a sort of cackle, and _ goddamn his breath stinks what the heck- _ “You’re the one who stumbled into here like you were drunk and then passed out! I may have believed you were actually drunk, too, but I know how you get when you’re drunk, and it’s not that. So what was it then, huh? Some sort of new drug? You hiding sh*t from me now, Virgie?”

Ah. That would certainly explain the wound. And why he was here. And why he felt so awful. Though, he didn’t remember anything about drugs last night…

“Hey, have you seen Double Dee?”

_ Oh shit- _

“He’s been missing for two days, and I know he wouldn’t want me going over to the area you guys have claimed as your own, so I haven’t bothered, and I still won’t, but since you’re here!”

“Uh- no, I haven’t, sorry. Not like it matters though, heh, good riddance.” Sure, he was pushing his luck, but it would be unholy Hell if Remus knew that Deceit was, in fact, over there.

“Good.. riddance?” Remus’s voice was low, and sounded heavy. “Well, jeez… I know you hate us, but isn’t that a bit harsh..?”

“Eh, maybe..? Sorry, I’m still not over what happened.” He gave a soft sigh, leaning onto the other. “I miss you. I know I don’t always act like it, but I do..”

“You don’t have to lie, Virge, that’s Dee’s job. We both know you still don’t really like us, and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care.” Remus sighed, wrapping his arms around Virgil. “But.. we miss you, too. I was actually surprised when you came back. Pretty sure you _ were _drunk though, because you stumbled in then passed out. That’s why your head’s all bandaged!”

That was certainly something he wouldn’t do, even if he was drunk…

“Yeah, maybe.” There was silence before he spoke up again, “I should probably go back. The others must be worried.”

Remus gave a hum of disapproval, but unwrapped himself from Virgil regardless. Virgil pushed himself up, hissing at the ache he felt. He swayed slightly, before steadying himself and heading to the hall that connected the darker and lighter parts of the mind together. He found his legs weak, having to lean on the wall for support, but carried on still.

He felt cold, but that was the affect the dark side had. And god, how hard had he hit his head**(haha, that’s a lot of h)**?! His eyes hurt like hell, so he closed them, letting the wall guide him. He heard buzzing again. Sh*t, what was so wrong? It hurt like hell.

He felt faint, letting his knees buckle out from under him as he slumped down. There was someone else there, he knew it, but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. He just let whoever it was hold him. It felt nice. That’s all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha wow that sucked-
> 
> ksajskjsd sorry it was bad, I can't be too bothered to edit it and make it good since school ends soon and I'm really caught up in my work :p


End file.
